


quiet is the steep stair under

by minarchy



Series: the great gdocs clear out of 2016 [3]
Category: Doctor Who (2005), X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Canon-Typical Violence, Crossover, F/F, F/M, non-graphic canonical scientific abuse of children
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-25 23:48:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6215059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minarchy/pseuds/minarchy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the High Security Unit of the Stormcage Containment Facility, Erik Lehnsherr has a visitor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	quiet is the steep stair under

**Author's Note:**

> repost from the 2011 xover-exchange on lj. original post [here](http://xover-exchange.livejournal.com/71582.html)

**0347  
** **Stormcage Containment Facility**  
**Neutral – Shadow Proclamation**

The prison compound was, architecturally, highly impressive; a solid mass of concrete and steel that sprawled across the entire surface of the moon. The moon itself was seventy light years from the closest inhabited territory, and designed specifically to make escape not only impossible, but apparently inconceivable to all entering.

On the inside, it was dominated by more concrete and uniformed, Kevlar-clad, armed guards of a number that must out-weigh the prison population by three-to-one, easily.

For himself, the lawyer thought that it was all rather too much for show; but it was not his place to judge. He had travelled a long way already, on a cramped transport ship from the neighbouring system, and he was not in the mood for inspections and weapons-scanning. Unfortunately, as the guard informed him when he glowered, it was an inescapable procedure.

He was escorted by yet more armed guards deep into the bowels of the compound, a good three miles below the moon's surface and into the High Security Unit.

The lawyer set his briefcase on the table, and sat down opposite with an air of impatient boredom.

"You wanted to see me, Mr Lehnsherr?"

Erik looked up at him, a scowl in place and a scathing retort ready, when he saw the lawyer's eyes flicker yellow.

"Wanda is missing," he said, leaning across the table without preamble. He didn't seem at all worried about the cameras listening in. Perhaps he could sense the EMP device stored within the lawyer's watch. "I need you to find her."

"I am not your servant, Mr Lehnsherr," Mystique said, her voice bored and forgettably Midwestern. 

"Azazel checked in with Szardos two days ago," Erik said, locking gazes with her. "She wasn't there. Please. I _need_ you to find her. I'll never ask for anything again."

"Bullshit," Mystique said. "You've never made good on those promises, Erik. You said the same thing after Charles."

Erik visibly flinched. "Raven," he said, and Mystique flinched at the name. "That wasn't my fault; I never wanted – you know that Charles was important to me. You _know_ –"

"That's enough," Mystique said, standing. "Damn you, Erik. You think I don't have problems of my own? I have a _son_ , a _wife_ –"

"And I have a daughter," Erik said. "And she's in trouble, Raven. There's something wrong; I can feel it."

"Then why don't you find her yourself?" Mystique said, _Raven_ settling in below her skin like so much history. "Get Azazel to 'port you out of here and go _hunting_ , just like the old days."

"I promised," Erik said.

"Since when did that matter?"

"I promised Charles."

Mystique scowled, and pushed herself away from the table. "We're done here." She said, bluntly, signalling the guard.

"Raven." Erik's hand darted out across the table to latch onto her wrist. "She's the only thing that's important to me. _Please_."

"What about Pietro, Erik?" Mystique said. "Remember him? Your _son_. Doesn't he matter?"

" _Please_."

"I have my own problems," Mystique repeated, picking up the briefcase and stepped back as the guard opened the door. "My own life to pursue. Enjoy your cell, Mr Lehnsherr."

 

The lawyer was halfway back to the elevator when the cameras flickered to static and all the comms went down. The guards escorting him had barely any time to react to the flicker of blue skin that rippled over his countenance before one had his neck snapped in a brutally elegant move, and the other had the suitcase embedded in his skull.

Mystique looked down at the bodies, and swore to herself.

"One day," she said, "you will make good on all these debts, _Magneto_."

She glanced up at the cameras, and winked, just in case anyone was still watching.

 

"I should probably thank you, my dear." 

Mystique turned with a start, immediately on the offensive (because she never let anyone get close enough for her to have to go on the defensive) and irritated at herself for not registering the movement before it happened.

The woman was standing over the bodies of three incapacitated guards – not dead, Mystique noted, which curled a thread of scorn through her stomach, merely unconscious – and smiling at her. She had the wildest hair Mystique had ever seen.

"I couldn't have done a better job myself," she continued, "and trust me; that's quite a ridiculous compliment."

"Who are you?" Mystique demanded, her fingers bent and muscles coiled. Not that this woman looked to be much of an opponent, but she had to be in the HSU for a reason, and Mystique was never one to underestimate. "And what are you doing?"

"My name is River Song," the woman said. "And what does it look like I'm doing? I'm breaking out, naturally."

"Why?" 

River Song tossed her head, curls bouncing rather melodramatically. Mystique was willing to bet that it was a practised move. She clicked her tongue, smiling at Mystique. "What else does one do in a prison?"

 

In the next ten minutes, Mystique was forced to re-evaluate her initial appraisal of River Song, most particularly in regards to her willingness to kill.

"Oh, my husband hardly approves," she said, when Mystique raised an eyebrow at her. River was an excellent shot, which turned out to be rather annoying, because it saved her a chance to engage in physical combat; and her annoyance at Erik's summoning of her still itched under her skin. "But what he doesn't know can't hurt him."

Mystique rolled her eyes, and turned down a corridor to her left. "This way," she said.

"The exit's this way, actually," River said.

"I'm not looking for the exit," Mystique said. "But you're welcome to leave any time you like."

River laughed, and fell into step beside her. "If I didn't know better, darling, I'd say that you were trying to get rid of me."

"What could've given you that impression?" Mystique said, drily, and smashed the head of a guard against the wall he had been hiding behind.

"Who're we looking for, then?" River said, stepping carefully around the spreading pool of blood from the guard's corpse.

Mystique didn't answer. Instead, she opened the door to cell #154368F, and stepped inside.

Callisto surged to her feet, hissing. She was chained to the walls and the floor, but her whole body vibrated as she attempted to speed out of her cell.

"Quieten yourself," Mystique said, coldly. "I need you to find someone for me."

The chains stopped rattling, and Callisto threw Mystique a filthy look. "And what do I get in return?" she spat, curling her lip at them.

"I won't kill you where you stand," Mystique said, smiling pleasantly. "And that's far more than you deserve, let me assure you."

River practically radiated amusement, whereas Callisto's scowl deepened further. Mystique gave her two seconds to realise that she had no choice.

"Fine," she said. "Who?"

"Wanda Maximoff," Mystique said. "Who even _you_ should be able to sense."

"I'm held inside a moon," Callisto said. "How do you even know that my powers work down here?"

"Because if they don't," Mystique said, the lightness never falling from her tone, "then you are entirely useless to me."

 

River was staring at Mystique. The elevator offered little by way of personal space, and her appraisal was starting to annoy.

"You really are beautiful," River said. "I haven't seen a skin that shade of blue since – oh, the Farrtiki nebula."

Mystique considered this for a moment. "Thank you," she said.

"You're more than welcome. But I was actually wondering if it _did_ anything." River tilted her head at Mystique. "You're evidently a mutant," she said. "Which is entirely _fascinating_ , by the way–"

Her skin rippled, scales folding in over themselves. "Entirely fascinating," River said, raising an eyebrow at her counterpart. The real River Song broke out into delighted laughter.

"Oh, _wonderful_ ," she said. "Absolutely perfect."

 

For the most secure prison in the galaxy, it was almost too easy to walk out of. She barely had to kill _anyone_.

 

"I take it you have a ship waiting?" River said, as they jogged down the single road from the complex. "Unless you can fly through space – which is perfectly feasible, but it would be something of a let-down if I have to wait to flag a carrier."

Mystique didn't answer, because the _Caldecott_ swung into view as they rounded a corner.

"Rogue," Mystique said, as the ramp folded itself back into the ship's hull, "this is River Song."

"Are we dropping you somewhere?" Rogue said, flicking her gaze over River as she spun the ship through the moon's atmosphere. 

"I don't have anywhere to be," River said, lightly, examining the interior of the ship with undisguised interest. "Except back in the compound before midday. The Doctor's taking me to see the Ascension of Cassiopeia, and he just _hates_ it when I'm not where he left me."

"The Doctor?"

"Oh, I'm sure I mentioned him," River said. "My husband."

Mystique slid into the seat next to Rogue, and they shared a look of vague amusement. She plugged in the coordinates that Callisto had given her.

"From your fine mood, honey, I take it that Erik was his usual self," Rogue said. "Still giving out the orders, despite the fact that the Brotherhood has scattered itself across the quadrant?"

"Naturally," Mystique said.

"Men," River said, cheerfully.

 

**0621  
** **Bethdelzar System**  
**Neutral – Hellfire Territory**

"I refuse to deal with her," Rogue said, when the comm bleeped. 

"Now, sugar," Emma said, when Mystique flicked the channel open, "am I psychic, or do I detect a note of hostility in your tone?"

Rogue pulled a ridiculous face at the comm, scrunching up her nose and sticking out her tongue. Mystique clipped her ear, and rolled her eyes. 

"What do you want, Emma?" she said. "We're not stopping, just passing through. Hellfire territory is still neutral, isn't it?"

"That's not why I'm calling," Emma said. "Our sensors – by which, of course, I mean me – have picked up that you're carrying a little bird from Stormcage."

"Hello!" River said, brightly, into the comm. "You shouldn't worry, darling, these lovely ladies have promised to drop me back when we're done with our little adventure."

The channel practically vibrated with Emma's curiosity. "Pray, tell," she said, her voice smooth and sweet.

"I really don't like that tone of hers," Rogue said, in an undertone to River. "It always makes me feel like she's going to eat me."

"Wanda Maximoff is missing," Mystique said. "We have coordinates, Emma. We're just passing through."

A pause. "You must be sure to stop in on your way back," Emma said. "We haven't had a catch-up in _so_ long."

As she closed the channel and glared the flanking security ships to a reasonable distance, Mystique thought that Emma sounded lonely.

 

**0715  
Open Space**

River slid into the seat next to Rogue, and grinned at her. Mystique was performing some minor repair work on the stealth functions; by minor repairs, she really meant a patch-job on something that was actually a rather serious issue but we don't have time to solve it right now and besides, this is only going to be a quick job anyway, right? Right.

"I have to say," she said, running the white streak through her fingers, "I absolutely _love_ your hair."

"Thank you," Rogue said, surprised. "Yours is quite impressive as well, if I might say."

River laughed. "Oh, yes, _everyone_ says that," she said. "It really is quite fantastic, isn't it? And I _never_ ate my crusts."

Rogue snorted – she hadn't, either, but Anna Marie had been very proud of her long, sleek hair, and the concept of it curling had been vulgar. "So, is this a regular thing for you?" she asked. "Breaking in and out of Stormcage when you get bored?"

"Oh, yes," River said. "It gets terribly cramped, cooped up in that cell, so it's only natural that I take the chance to stretch my legs every once in a while." She leant in. "And what about you?" she said. "Do you and your darling wife terrorise the quadrant just on Mondays."

" _Wife_?!"

"Oh, I'm sorry." River smiled, disarmingly. "I suppose it's difficult to get her gender correct. Do you prefer 'partner'?"

"Mystique is my _mother_ ," Rogue said, looking entirely disgusted at the concept.

"Really?" River turned to watch as Mystique reappeared through the maintenance hatch, momentarily. "You must tell me how she keeps her skin so young." 

Shaking her head, Rogue pushed her fingers into the corners of her eyes, trying to erase the image of _Mystique_ and _wife_ from her brain. "You'd be surprised how often I hear that," she said.

 

**0832  
** **Modok System  
**AIM-Controlled Territory****

"AIM?" River said, as the console blinked _warning: hostile territory_ , and Mystique activated the stealth mode. "What on earth would they want with a little girl?"

Rogue and Mystique shared a grim look as they suited up. "In and out jobs, kiddies," Mystique said. "Let's not make this more complicated than it is."

"AIM are the bad guys," Rogue said to River. "Just in case you have any doubts about shooting them with that pretty gun of yours."

River laughed. "Oh, don't you worry about that, sweetie," she said. "I've been told that I'm _quite_ the trigger-happy bitch."

They stepped down off the ramp, and admired the way that they had absolutely no welcome party whatsoever.

"Amateurs," Rogue sniffed.

"Rogue," Mystique said, "take the north-east entrance. And take River with you. I'll go in the south side, and we meet back at the ship."

"Understood," Rogue said, and Mystique darted off.

"Why does she take the south side?" River asked, as they headed towards the building.

"Well," Rogue said. "Unless you're as well-equipped for silent recon, then Mystique is always the best option."

 

They hadn't had to fire their weapons once, yet; which was only a good thing, considering that they had no desire to bring the entire city down upon them. Still, it was a close run thing for River not to empty her entire revolver into the head of the nearest man, even after Rogue had snapped his neck. She, too, was looking like she'd rather have given him a more painful death.

There were four rooms on the second floor, and there were bodies in each one, tied to beds and hooked up to intravenous filters.

"It's a workshop," River breathed, horrified.

"It's a meat factory," Rogue said, disgusted. She took off her gloves.

 

Mystique scaled the outside of the south side until she reached the attic window; she had seen it from the ground, unshuttered probably due to its size. Clearly, this small AIM outpost hadn't been expecting _her_.

There were two guards in the stairwell, who offered almost no resistance. A third she snared in the corridor below, an arm around his neck and her breath hot against his ear.

"Wanda Maximoff," she hissed, and the guard pointed. She left him crumpled on the floor.

 

Rogue took care of the two guards outside the kitchen, her bare hands covering their mouths and sucking their life force from them. River pushed the door open.

"Hello, boys," she said. "I was wondering if you could help us."

"You see," Rogue said. "It seems that we've lost something, and you seem like just the fine young men to find it for us."

The AIM guards scrabbled for their weapons.

"Oh, boo," River said, pouting and raising her gun. "We were just trying to be friendly."

 

Wanda was huddled against the wall, clearly dehydrated and shivering violently. Mystique wished that she had killed the guards with less finesse.

"Wanda," she said, smoothing the dark hair from her forehead. "It's time to go."

"Are you rescuing me?" Wanda asked, and Mystique could feel the latent power quest over her scales. 

"Yes," Mystique said.

"Good." Wanda allowed herself to be collected against Mystique's chest. "Kill all the bad guys."

"Don't worry," Mystique promised, as the sounds of gunfire drifted up the stairwell. "We will."

"All of them?" Wanda said, pushing against Mystique to ensure that her request was understood.

"Every last one."

 

They stepped over the shattered remains of the table and the loose, limp bodies of those that had been occupying it, and pushed open the door on the far side of the room.

"Mr Boss man," Rogue said, quietly, indicating another door on the other side of this new corridor. River nodded, _yes, you go on_ , as the sounds of back-up rattled through the house.

She turned, and faced the AIM troopers.

"Who are you?" they barked, voices crackling with static over their intercom. 

"I am River Song," River said, for the second time that day.

"Incorrect," the trooper said. "We have no records for _River Song_."

She raised her gun, and saw the flickerings of panic through their posture, even though she could not see their faces. 

"I am River Song," she repeated. "You have killed innocent people to further your war profiteering. You have kidnapped a child. _Check your records again_."

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: women being awesome


End file.
